Swordplay
by Amberion
Summary: This is a draft prologue of a story I am contemplating. As I see it, I can take this several places. I haven't decided yet which way I will go. Comments please! ^_^


"I wish you to learn the art of the sword, Son."
    Genma knew doom as soon as he heard those words. "But, Nodoka-chan," he
    desperately interjected, "As a practitioner of the Anything Goes style..."
    Nodoka raised an eyebrow.
    "Anything Goes is an open style. It incorporates many other forms into its
    own, correct?"
    "W-well, yes," Genma stammered, "But weapons are notably inferior..." The
    appearance of three feet of sharp gleaming steel inches from his face neatly
    drew his attention away from... whatever it was he was thinking about.
    "A-heh."
    "You were saying, Genma-chan?" Nodoka inquired sweetly. "As I was saying
    before I was so rudely... oops," she put her hand to her mouth in dismay
    as she lost her grip and the sword fell to imbed itself into the floor,
    uncomfortably close to the Saotome patriarch's expansive stomach(and family
    jewels, but we won't go into that). In the blink of an eye, Genma magically
    teleported himself ten feet away and desperately attempted to make himself as
    small as possible behind the Tendo patriarch, Tendo Soun. Soun lowered his
    newspaper and gave his best(and possibly only) friend a narrow look.
    "Saotome, do you not think it unseemly for a man to hide from his wife?"
    Most of the occupants of the room performed a collective face-fault at this
    statement. Genma's taking his son on a ten-year training trip and leaving his
    wife behind was well-known to all involved. That Soun would make such an
    oblivious statement was... actually pretty much in character, come to think
    of it.
    "If you don't mind, Tendo," came the muffled response, "I think I would
    rather be unseemly than deceased."
    Pulling the Saotome honor blade from the woodwork, Nodoka expertly twirled it
    and totally missed the sheath she was aiming for, sending it hurtling through
    the air to lodge into a support beam right above Tendo-san's head. Soun's
    eyes tracked a couple of long black hairs as they slowly drifted down across
    his field of view. He looked up. Without moving an inch, he merely commented.
    "I see your point, Saotome."
    "Oh dear," Nodoka fretted, "My utmost apologies, Tendo-san! I really must
    be more careful next time."
    "Indeed," came the dry response. "If you don't mind, however, I do believe I
    will 'scoot over' as they say." With that, he performed a close cousin of the
    Saotome Ultimate Secret Technique: The Tendo Avoid Sharp Pointy Objects
    Maneuver. TASPOM had proved eminently useful in the years he had known Nodoka
    before Genma had gone on his trip; it was nice(and relieving!) to know he
    still had the touch.
    Seconds later, the blade made its inevitable descent.
    It is a pity that Genma never learned TASPOM.
    Fifteen minutes and one paramedic later, Nodoka returned to her initial
    conversation with her so-far silent son. "It would please me greatly if you
    would learn the art of the sword, my son," she stated calmly, sword once
    again safely sheathed and slung over her back.
    Under the circumstances, Ranma was hard put to argue.
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------
    "Uhh... momma?" Ranma ventured hesitantly.
    "Yes, son." Nodoka responded pleasantly as she watched him go through
    beginning katas in the Tendo dojo. Concentrating on keeping his focus as
    he went through the unfamiliar forms, he took brief moments in the 'calm'
    areas of the kata to speak.
    "I was wonderin'," he ventured, "why you make Pop think you're such a klutz
    with the sword? I mean, he's scared stiff to have you around."
    His mother smiled. "Your father needs to be kept in line. I am sure you
    recognise how... undependable he can be." She concluded delicately. "When
    we first married, he was absolutely impossible to deal with. We had a
    neighbor, a sweet old man with no family, who was aware of my predicament.
    He could hardly not be." She laughed faintly. "After hearing your father
    come home drunk once too many, he offered me a deal: In exchange for classes
    with the sword, I was to carry on his school and keep my husband in line.
    I have failed the second, you and he would not have left me otherwise, but
    I absolutely must fulfill the first or lose much honor. Part of carrying on
    the school involves instructing my children in the sword and his particular
    school of swordsmanship."
    "So you gotta teach me this." Ranma nodded. "Okay, I can see that. I wonder,
    though, how Pop would react if he knew you were faking."
    "He does know, dear." Nodoka patted her son on the shoulder affectionately
    as he finished the kata and straightened into a more relaxed stance.
    "However, there's little he can do. I am a certified master of Drunken Style
    Kenjutsu. Your father-" she hesitated. "I dislike saying this, but your
    father isn't... that good." She concluded sadly. "Certainly, he's very
    accomplished, but he is no master."
    "Huh," Ranma grunted. "Figures. I always thought the old geezer was holding
    back on me, but he really isn't, is he?"
    "You will address your father with respect, son." Nodoka chided him.
    "Despite his failings he is your father. Still," she sighed, "One does
    wish that Genma could have turned out to be more than... marginally
    worthwhile as a human being."
    "Yes, Momma."
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------
    When the fiancee's(minus one who vehemently resisted any efforts by the
    combined patriarchs of the two families to get her to join the posse) learned
    about Ranma's new training, each one showed up to train with him only to be
    coldy rebuffed by Nodoka. "My son trains in our family's style. Only those of
    our blood may witness these training techniques." Undaunted, they each argued
    that since 'she', of course, would be marrying Ranma, it was only right for
    'her' to join her "Ran-chan," "Airen," "Ranma-sama," and aid him in any way.
    All this accomplished was for each of them to get tossed out on their ears.
    Shampoo attempted to give Nodoka the Kiss of Death for her defeat, and
    succeeded in getting tossed out again, this time into the pond.
    Ryouga had wandered in from parts unknown, looking dusty and porcine, as
    usual. After bathing and recovering his clothes, he prepared for his
    traditional battle with his nemesis. He looked around. Where was Ranma?
    "Ranma!" He roared, "Come out and fight!"
    "Oh dear," came the melodic reply. "Are you a friend of my son?" Ryouga's
    face bunched up into an expression of pure rage.
    "Friend?! Me, friends with that... eh?" Ryouga spun around to face his
    greeter. "You... Ranma... mother?" he stuttered.
    "Yes, I am Ranma's mother." Nodoka bowed. "Pleased to meet you. My son is
    currently in training right now, but if you would care to wait, I am sure he
    can come out to play soon."
    "Ranma is training. I must - I must train also! Tell Ranma I will be back
    in a week to challenge him for Akane's hand!" So saying, Ryouga dashed
    off in a random direction. In the far distance faint explosions and loud
    complaints could be heard. Nodoka placed a hand to her cheek.
    "Oh, my."
    -----------------------------------------------------------------------------
    When Kuno learned of his arch-rival's interest in swordsmanship, he was
    incensed. "What? How dare that foul sorceror sully the fine art of Kendo with
    his dark touch? I will not tolerate it!"
    "Actually, Kuno-chan," Nabiki corrected, licking an ice-cream cone as she
    reclined under a tree, "I believe the style is a form of Kenjutsu, not
    Kendo."
    "It matters not! The idea that that... barbarian would sully a blade with
    his vile touch fills me with nothing less than purest revulsion! The very
    heavens cry out against this affront to nature!"
    Nabiki made a show of listening carefully for such a nonexistant cry before
    giving up. Subtlety and wit were beyond Kuno. She didn't even know why she
    wasted her breath - he had been growing more and more incoherent as time went
    by. Still, she admitted, the cash was good. Speaking of which - "What would
    you say..." Nabiki inquired, drawing out the sentence seductively, "to
    these?" With a flash of her wrist, she displayed a cluster of photos of
    Ranma-chan, sweaty after a hard workout, and holding a bokuto in a guard
    position. Perhaps it was the training sword, of which Kuno was particularly
    obsessed. Perhaps it was the sheen of sweat covering Ranma-chan's brow.
    Perhaps it was the too-big muscle-tee that barely covered the most
    interesting bits and could not help but fail to conceal a total lack of
    upper body support for her...
    "Gazongas," Kuno whispered reverantly. A brief flicker of revulsion flickered
    across Nabiki's face before it disappeared behind the Ice Queen's frigid
    mask.
    "Fifty thousand yen for the set," was all she said. The money was in her hand
    almost before she had finished talking. "Nice doing business with you, Kuno-
    chan," *gag*. The last thing she heard as she walked away were the whispers
    of the rich lunatic: "I shall free you, my Pig-tailed Goddess, from that
    dark sorceror's clutches, and then you and I we shall..."
    Shuddering, she counted the bills. "The things I do..." she muttered. "Maybe
    it's time to get into a new line, or something."


End file.
